


Did My Heart Love Til Now?

by BreeZombiee



Category: Glee
Genre: Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 09:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4823882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreeZombiee/pseuds/BreeZombiee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel has a certain way of dealing with loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did My Heart Love Til Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in college while we were reading Romeo & Juliet.

Kurt stands in front of the mirror in silence as he buttons the navy blue shirt over his chest, slowly hiding every inch of his pale chest. The chest that is slowly rising and falling in time with his steady breathing, matching the slow b-bump b-bump of his heart. His fingers tremble on the last button as they always do before he wraps the tie around his neck, twisting and pulling until the silk fits sleek and straight down his chest, following the buttons like a train on its tracks. He pulls his arms through the black jacket, watching pale hands get devoured by the dark fabric before pushing out on the other side; like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

Blue-green eyes meet a matching pair, rimmed with red and flecks of gold like a sprig of hay in a pile of needles. His chest keeps rising and falling in the beat of his heart. Just as it was before. He sits carefully, lacing the shoes the way he was taught; one circle, round the bend, through the loop and up again. The motion matches the other foot as the laces fall into the familiar pattern they have been worn to.

He grabs the book of two tragic teens, barely teens at all and makes his way down the stairs. He listens for the creek on the third step from the bottom, the one that sounds when the right pressure is placed in the right spot. He walks out the door and making a left at the end of the block, trusting traffic more than his vision not to sweep him away.

The florist hands him the bouquet of red roses, a purple carnation sitting in the middle, discreet yet flamboyant all at the same time. He places the exact change on the table and slips a twenty into the tip jar before making his way back down the graying sidewalk, bearing cracks from decades of travelling feet.

The pathway is clear, as always, and his shoes sink into the mud, fresh from the mornings storm. He doesn't let it bother him as he finds his spot. He sits. Blending in with the Earth as though he was a root from the nearby sycamore. He leans against the stone, feeling the coolness through his layers as he opens the book.

"Did my heart love till now? Foreswear it, sight!" he reads quietly, no longer needing the book but familiar with the heavy weight in his hands. "For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." He whispers softly, turning to press his cheek to the stone. His fingers trace the pattern.

"Remember when I thought that Romeo and Juliet was the most romantic thing in the world? And you decided that when you proposed to me in front of the entire school at graduation, you would use those words?" he smiles softly, placing the roses down. "It's odd that it was only two years ago. It feels like centuries."

"I have that same feeling as Juliet. Her lover is gone and she cannot possibly fathom life without him. Everything is bleak and dark and lonely. I'd much rather go in a more sophisticated way then a dagger through my chest. But I understand the feeling of wanting to do anything to be with the one they love." He speaks, standing slowly.

"But I made a promise to you." He whispers, pressing his lips to the cold stone as his father pulls up in the older truck. "Then have my lips the sin that they have took." He recites once more before walking down the shallow pathway towards the man who made him.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson." He whispers to the wind, pulling open the door to the truck and welcoming the warmth.

"For never was a story of more woe. Than this of Juliet and her Romeo." He closes his eyes as the words flow through his mind.

The best-selling novel of a Fashion Designer losing his husband to the cruelties of homophobia begs to differ.


End file.
